Pink Leeches
by Strange Demise
Summary: A story of Ice and Towers. What goes on between Roose Bolton and Walda Frey that isn't mentioned in the books, and how The Lord of the DreadFort will slowly fall for his sweet plump little wife, and face the threat his Bastard presents against this union while trying to keep his head on and Holding the North as the new Warden. Roose Bolton X Walda Frey
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! If you found this story, You were probably fond of Walda from Game of Thrones and wished you could read more stuff about Lord Bolton and his little fat wife? If not, well, this is a story pretty much about how their relationship started out, and how they will slowly grow on eachother, and find that they need one another in this cold, barren wasteland called the North. There isn't much of a good read on here, and so I'm tossing in my two cents and hope to get the ship sailing! X'DD Lots of lovely art about them, but not may fan fictions I find Favorable.. So here you are! My minor project to keep my brain working functioning properly.**

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The gates were opened with a shuttered groan as a dark stallion came forth, trotting along with the group of Bannerman baring the Sigil of House Bolton as they entered the Twins. Roose, who rode in front of his men, held a solemn expression as he came towards the main entrance. Before him, stood a few Frey men who soon came forth with distrusting eyes as they studied the pale, tall rider of the ebony horse. No sooner had he dismounted, he was ushered inside through the set of double doors, and brought to the great hall where the symbol of the seven gods were caved into the wall parallel to the entrance where a frail, old man with thinning hair sat in mock of regality at the end of the room along with a young woman, who stood to his left, was picking at her teeth rather un-charmingly. On either side of the room, the space was filled with many of Lord Frey's children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and bastards, all of which assembled for the rather uneventful welcoming of the Lord of the Dreadfort.

"Roose Bolton, so nice of you to visit us here at the twins.." Spoke the old man, Walder Frey, as he slowly sat a bit straighter, and turned his pointed nose towards the tall, pale man before him.

"I have come for the collection of the deal you had offered me by raven?" Replied Lord Bolton rather passively as a leering smile stretched itself upon Lord Frey's lips.

"You accept my proposal then?" He asked, barley hiding the glee behind his words as whispers slowly sprung up among his children, which were quickly silenced when Walder turned a sour face, and demanded them all to shut up.

Roose was rather unimpressed as he watched the feeble old man turn his squinting eyes back to him in mock apology.

"I have." He replied simply as Walder slowly ran his tongue over his bottom lip, an untrusting smile upon his face as he turned and beckoned out at his children.

"I am glad to have you here, then. You see how my children start to pile up? I need to be rid of them, and I do not trust my fool of a son to accomplish such a feat." He spoke rather bitterly as he turned an icy eye to a bearded man in the crowd to the left, who taken to hide his face now behind his hand.

"I am sure you will find worthy suitors for them all." Responded Lord Bolton as the old man simply turned away with a grunt as he waved a few servants over.

"You must be weary from your travels." He continued as a little boy came forth. "You, fetch some wine for our guest." He instructed as he waved the boy off.

"That is not necessary." Spoke Roose again as the old man turned back to him with a suspicious look.

"I would like to pick my bride now, and be married as soon as possible. I must be returning to Winterfell and see how my bastard is fairing with the task I had given him of securing Winterfell." He clarified as Walder let out a wheezing chuckle.

"You wont be needing that bastard for long once you've married.. Very well then. The sooner you leave, the sooner I am rid of another mouth to feed. Girls! Come forth." Beckoned Walder as the crowd slowly made way for the brides-to-be.

One by one, the girls fell in line as if they had done so multiple times before in the past as they stood now before the Lord of the Dreadfort with fearful, curious, and even hopeful eyes.

"My daughters, Walda, welda, welthem, Wensi, Wera, welma, Louisa. Grand-daughters, Sherrie, 'fat' Walda, Sarah, Ceara, Neyala, Roslin, and.." He paused as he came to the last.

"Mary." She replied as Walder simply waved her off.

"Take your pick." He snapped as Roose turned away from the thinning man, and slowly made his way down the line, observing each girl slowly as they peeked up from their curtain of untamed hair, falling cold under his calculating stare. One by one, as he came by, the girls quickly glanced the other way, frightened of eye contact with the lord of Dreadfort as he gazed upon them all, and without a second thought, he locked his eyes upon a rather plump one, and paused before her, staring hard at the top of her head as she shyly, and slowly peeked up behind her locks of dull blonde to brownish hair and gazed upon his white, icy eyes.

"..I'll take her." He said simply as he briefly turned away, and the girls where soon dismissed by a puzzled Lord Frey.

"I was sure you would pick Roslin, or at least the fairer Walda.." He spoke slowly as he gazed at the pale lord.

"You promised me my bride's Dowry in her weight in silver." He replied as Walder seemed to grow even more dismayed by the second.

"I see.. Well, it is better she be gone this way, then of her eating herself to death I suppose.." He spoke gruffly as he took the wine that was offered to the Pale Lord, and gulped it down.

"We will hold the ceremony tonight. You and your men may stay here and leave at dawn.."

At this, Roose was taken back at how hasty Lord Frey was willing to push the wedding along, but he expected nothing less from the old man as he simply agreed to the arrangements, and was taken to his room..

In another room, across in the other tower from which the Lord of the Dreadfort was currently residing in, there was a loud commotion in the room of one certain bride to be..

"I cannot believe he chose _you!_" Cried one of the many girls that were packed into this single room.

"What would the Lord of Dreadfort want with a piggy such as yourself, Walda?"

"I heard the deal Grandfather made with Lord Bolton." Piped in another as they all gather around to hear what she had to say.

"What? What deal?" Demanded one as they all hushed.

"He promised to give Lord Bolton his bride's weight in silver as dowry." The girl giggled as a few others did, eyes locked upon the plump girl who was sitting as far as she could in her bed, away from the others.

"Of course! That a makes perfect sense! Of course he would pick _you." _

"Hey, Walda, I bet he'll kill you as soon as you leave the Twins."

"Yeah, did you see how pale he was? I heard he gets leechings every day."

"His family Flays people alive! They have it on their banners! What kind of a sick person cuts people up like that?"

"Shut up, all of you!" Cried a young girl as she was seated at the foot of Walda's bed, along with a slightly older girl with a soft face.

"I'm older then you, you shut up! Your still a child, unlike the rest of use you miserable little baby."

"At least I'm not called an Open Gate, like _someone._" Snapped the little girl as a few others giggled. The soft face girl soon came up to the now pale Walda as she was snapped from her trance.

"Never you mind what they say, you will be fine. Lord Bolton is the lord of the second most powerful house in the North. Just think of it, you will be even greater than us Freys will ever conceive or aspire to be."

A few girls leered and turned a sour face as others looked on with a hint of adoration and admiration. A few even had faces of pity for the plump bride as she forced a meek smile and rolled onto her feet.

"Yeah, just think of it! You'll be free out there while the rest of us are still stuck here with Grand-dad.." Winced the young girl as her face bunched up in disgust.

"I will do my best to be a-a good lady wife." Nodded Walda with Determination as she was ushered to the mirror. A few hand maidens soon arrived to ready her as the girls were ushered away, and Walda stood rigidly as she was measured and prodded on the same day that was to be her wedding to a man she barely even knew..


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a heads up, I know the chapters are short, and I apologize. This is simply something I will be working with on the side as a short story, nothing too crazy, just short and sweet, and almost to the point. -Demise**

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It was now evening at the twins as the festive hall was hastily decorated for the wedding soon to take place. Throughout the whole day, Walda was instructed to stay up in her room as her dress was quickly tailored together in a manner rather less then what a wedding dress should be, and pulled around her as her hair was washed and rinsed, and pulled up into a lovely braided bun, framing her face with a few locks of hair.

She had never, in her life, ever treated in such a way. Her grandfather never even batted an eye towards her whenever she was present, for she was only another mouth to feed, another face in the crowd that he was eager to never see again, but at least he had the decency to treat her with some importance upon her wedding day, though she had suspicion it was only because he was trying to make her, as well as the other brides, more appealing to any suitors who were willing to take a Frey girl.

It was now time for her to come down to the sept as she was accompanied by two maids, tailing her as they whispered among themselves, and giggled, most likely laughing at her, the fat bride to 'the Leech Lord' as she paused before the doors, waiting to be called in as instructed. She stood there, with a hand full of limp wildflowers brought in by the young Frey girl earlier that day as a small wedding gift and a small kindness to Walda before she would be taken away from the Twins.

She was terrified of the man who awaited her behind those doors, but she was determined to keep to her promise to be a good lady wife, and forced a smile upon her face as the doors were slowly hauled open, and she made her way down towards the front of the sept where Lord Bolton was now standing, clean shaven, and donning a Thick, black leather Jerkin over a pink long-sleeved shirt and a furred cape as he stood with an air of authority about him that made Walda wish she was back behind the safety of the double doors and escape those Icy-blue eyes of his as he looked on with the same frown he had worn when he first came to the Twins. She felt so out of place there in her own ancestral home as everyone present for her wedding all spared her a quick glance before they turned like clockwork back towards the front of the sept, clearly wanting to get on with the wedding and return to their beds for the night while she continued to keep on a smiling face as she finally reached the Lord of the Dreadfort himself. It was her wedding, regardless of how meager it was, it was still supposed to be one of the most memorable days of her life, and so she stood there proudly before her husband to be, and memorized every detail from his pink sleeves to his frown before they both turned towards the high Septon, as he began reciting the words she had heard many times in her life here at the Twins as he took Lord Bolton's hand, and placed Walda's over his while wrapping a holy piece of linin around them.

"Let there be tragedy to those who dare try and tear these two asunder." Spoke the Septon unceremoniously as the Linin was removed, and Walda turned around as The Lord of Dreatfort was handed a cape of his house sigil, and placed it over her, taking her under his protection as she slowly turned to him again as he spoke, but this time, directly to her, which was a frightening, and strange experience for her as he fixed his cold gaze upon her once more, his attention, though swift as it was, all upon her as he spoke his vows.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine from this day, until the end of my days."

Now it was her turn as she started with trembling lips.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his, and he is mine from this day, until the end of my days."

Now there was only the matter of sealing the union with a kiss, and as the realization dawned on her, Walda felt like she was thrown into an ice bath when the Septon Pronounced them Husband and Wife, and everything stopped around her as the Lord of Dreadfort now returned his gaze to her, and slowly decended his head down towards her as their lips met in a quick, simple, chaste kiss, which left her breathless and blushing as this was her very first kiss.

Everyone clapped because they were supposed to, and soon dispersed as Walda was lead to Lord Bolton's room, and there she waited as her head had finally cleared of the kiss, and another thought dawned upon her that it was in fact, her wedding night, and she had certain duties to fulfill as the Lady of the Dreadfort to her husband..

"Here is your silver. They are all accounted for." Grumbled Walder as a servant came forth with a few sacks of silver, and handed them over to Lord Bolton.

"I hope she is to your liking, Lord Bolton. If anything, she has good birthing hips and will give you plenty of sons to replace that bastard of yours."

"Ramsay is eager to prove himself worthy of my name and heir, but he is reckless and does as he pleases without a thought of what the outcome may be, rather only doing things on impulse to get one job done, and starting another in the process." Spoke Roose as he seated himself across from the balding man.

"I hear many things of that bastard of yours." Started Walder as he took a bite of his dinner. "I do not trust he will be pleased if Walda becomes with child.. You best keep him away if you wish to gain a true born heir."

Roose only shook his head as he took a swallow of wine to steady his nerves. "Better he do away with them. I doubt I will live long enough to sire any other heirs into manhood.. I do not want a child to run my holdings when I am gone. You've seen what it has done to the King.. The kingdoms are now crying for war, and everyone is naming themselves king."

"You were once named King as well, were you not?" Pondered Walder out loud as Roose gave him a rather unamused look.

"The Red King, they called you." Chuckled Walder as he gulped down his wine, and waved more servants over to fill his cup.

"It is late. You should be returning to your new bride if you with to be up by dawn, Lord Bolton." Suggested Walder as the Lord of Dreadfort nodded, and slowly stood from his seat.

"We will see one another again when Robb Stark arrives to marry another of your daughters."

"And one of them shall become queen of the North." Chuckled Walder as Roose bowed and thanked him for his hospitality, and slowly made his way back to his room. He paused as he waited outside of the doors before he slowly pushed it open, and stepped into the dimly lit room, where Walda was waiting in his bed..


	3. Chapter 3

**Quick warning, sex is referenced. -Demise**

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Roose Bolton is a man of many things, and he holds tradition dearly to his heart, especially when it came to the first night tradition that allows him to have the first night of every bride to be that lived within his lands and holdings. He has been with a number of women in that way, all pretty and thin. Walda was different. To him, she would prove to be a bit of a challenge, and strangely, he found the thought a bit intimidating, which was a foreign thing to him as he was often to be the person who does the intimidating. Still, the thought of having something a bit different tonight rather than the same old crying, begging, and stillness of that of a corpse he would endure through with the others, seemed to draw Roose into a small glimmer of excitement as he pushed the door open, to find his young fat bride, seated to the left of the bed with her body propped against the pillow as she turned her head to him in surprise.

"M-my lord.." She spoke meekly as she stared owlishly at him.

He could see how she visibly shook just by his presence, and this sparked another glimmer of excitement within him as he closed the door, and turned back around to acknowledge her with icy white eyes as he moved towards the bed slowly, and paused before the corner poster as he slowly undid the clasp of his cape, and shrugged it off his shoulders, taking his time as he placed it neatly on the poster, glancing between his actions and her as Walda started pulling at the covers, and raising them up to her neck as her cheeks where turning a bright red.

Was he going to undress in front of her? She thought as she became conflicted between covering her eyes, or watching, but she refused to shy away in such a manner so childish. She was the new Lady of the Dreadfort. It was her duty to bare his children.. The thought of it all frightened and intrigued her as she wondered how he would go about it all.. How will the lord of the Dreadfort treat her in bed? If all those nasty rumors of him were true, would he try to hurt her?

Roose was now in the process of unbuttoning his Jerkin as his eyes remained locked on her. She had not stopped staring at him, and something about her watching him undressing himself made him feel eager, and this intrigued the Lord of Dreadfort as the feeling of lust slowly took over him as he threw the Jerkin to the side, and crawled into bed towards Walda, one hand grasping at the lacings at the collar of his shirt as he grabbed the covers, and pulled them away from her, causing her to squeak in panic as he proceeded with coming over, and holding himself on top of her as he reached for her wrists, and held them above her head to stop her from trying to get away from him.

"Be still, this will be over quickly.." He muttered in hopes she would do as he demanded, and save less effort on his side to try and keep her still as he took her.

Walda was now staring wide-eyed at him as she found herself more or less, trapped underneath Roose. He may be tall and thin, but he was much stronger than her. She could not move her arms if she wished. With shaking lips, she tried to say something in hopes of taking his attention away for a bief moment.

"P-please.." She squeaked quietly as Roose paused and looked down upon her face, his eyes cold, but anxious as he waited for her to continue.

"I.. This will be my first…" She said meekly as Roose remained still above her.

It remained silent between them for a minute before Roose replied.

"I will be gentle for this night." He said slowly. He was not a man who often comforted his wives, or anyone really, but he saw no harm in easing his new bride's nerves.

His words seemed to calm Walda as she remained still now, enough that Roose grew confident to remove his hold from her wrists, and shrug off the shirt he had finished unlacing. Walda still kept her frightened gaze upon him, noting just how pale he was as he turned away from her eyes, and begun undoing his trousers, which only made Walda a bit more squeamish through the whole ordeal as her eyes flickered between his hands that were at work with his trousers, and his face.

She let out a frightful gasp when he pressed himself against her, his hands pressed to the mattress as he lowered his face to her neck softly, and began nuzzling her there, taking in her sweet lilac scent. This would repulse most of the woman he had forced under him, but he was surprised that Walda did nothing to fight him off, but she did not remain still either. She was squirming a bit, but seemed to relax under him, which was strange. He was intrigued by her as he experimented with gently pressing his hands to her generous sides, and couldn't help but feel wanting of her. She had a fertile feel, something that was foreign to him, and yet, drew him to her. This small action rewarded him with another intake of breath by her as she pressed her head into her pillow shyly, blushing as his hands moved lower until they were squeezing at her hips. For the first time, she heard him audibly moan, the sound buried into her shoulder as it shook her whole frame in a pleasing way. Her lips parted at the sound and the touch of his hands on her as a sigh slipped from her. He would be the very first man to ever touch her in this way, and the fact that he was even touching her, seemed too forbidden, almost in a sacred way as she was a maiden raised and taught to stay far from the eyes and touch of men, to keep herself pure, but she was also taught the duties of a lady to her husband, and so she laid there, breathless as he started kissing at her flesh until he had his face in her bosom, and his hands were ever so slowly pulling up her skirts..

. . .

Roose stood there silently over the bed, his trousers had been pulled up and carelessly stringed as he said nothing, only continuing to stare at Walda's sleeping form in bed. He did not know what came over him, but he needed to reflect over what had just occurred between him and his new bride. She was nothing like any other woman he had been with. She had squirmed, but not to get away from him, but from the sensations he was causing her. She did not cry, or beg for him to stop, she clung to him like a life line.. She moaned, squeaked, gasped, and at one point, even went silent as her lips where simply parted in an 'o'. She wanted him.. This new realization seemed to haunt, and boggled him. He would never have guessed she would react to him in such a way. He expected her to be kicking and screaming for help that would never come for her, but no, she openly enjoyed it.. He had been standing there, staring at her once she had fallen asleep for the past half hour, and now, his mind was growing weary as exhaustion finally hit him, and so, he returned to bed, climbing onto the far side of his new bride with his face to her back as some space was left between them, and closed his eyes..


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Sorry if this wasn't posted as quickly as the others, I was also working on a chapter for "Tainted Steel." No, I am still not done.. X'DDD - Demise**

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It was early dawn at the Twins as men, baring the sigil of house Bolton, rose from their tents outside, and began preparing for the trip home back to the Dreadfort and regroup before heading off to the Ruby ford and meet with the Tullys, bannerman of the young Northern King. The lord of Dreadfort was having breakfast that morning with the distrusting Walder Frey as he left his wife in their room for the maids to prepare for travel. All that time that he sat at the table with Walder, the old man kept staring at him, as if searching for something that he had seemingly found as a glimmer in his eyes was obvious before a sly smirk twitched at the corners of the old man's lips.

"I see she did not disappoint." Stated Walder rather boldly as Roose turned to him with an unwavering expression.

"A rather forward statement.. What lead you on to such a suggestion?" Replied Roose as he fiddled with his fork in his left hand, eyes still locked onto the thinning man.

"You are wearing the same clothes as your wedding night, the same clothes you took to bed with you." Stated Walder simply. "A lord such as yourself would know better to have spare clothing during travel, and I do not take you for the type to have a slipping mind, unless you were up rather late last night, and quickly threw on the easiest thing you could find available without having to call guards or go fetch clothing for yourself.." Walder seemed to smirk even wider when Roose sat rigid in his seat, stiff as a ruler.

"I.." Roose tried to come up with a reply, but for the first time, he drew up a blank, and simply stood from the breakfast table.

"I must be leaving soon. My men are waiting. I thank you for your kindness here, and wish you good health." He spoke rather hurriedly as he bowed, a frown finding its way back to his face as he straightened and turned towards the exit as Walder watched him leave with a twinkle in his eyes.

"By the seven, he is hopeless now." Grinned the lord of the Twins as his yellowing teeth were exposed, raising his cup to his lips before setting it down and shouting. "More wine!" To the giddy servants.

Men of house Bolton now stood at the entrance of the Twins as their lord approached and swept his eyes through their assembly with a criticizing expression upon his face before his horse was saddled and brought over to him by one of the handlers, but it wasn't just his horse alone. Another horse, one grey with white socks was also brought along. It was study with a short, but very lean build, no doubt meant for his new wife as she herself now exited the Twins with two maids as they saw her out.

"Help my lady wife onto her horse, and bring her to my side once she is saddled." Instructed Roose to the handler as he saddled his own horse, and steered it towards the front of the assembly.

Walda looked hesitantly to the handler as he brought her horse over, reaching out a hand to her respectfully.

"The Lord instructed me to help you saddle, milady." Spoke the handler as he waited for her to comply. Walda looked to the horse with an unsettling expression as she gingerly took the handler's offered hand.

"A-are you sure the horse can hold..?" Asked Walda quietly as the handler brought her over to the left of the horse, and patted the beast's neck reassuringly.

"Ol'Grey here has carried men twice your size, milady. I recon he could carry Gregor Clegene for days without giving out." Huffed the handler with pride.

Walda still remain a bit unconvinced, but slowly she reached up for the reins as the handler helped boosted her up onto the saddle, where she wobbled momentarily before finding her balance upon the horse, which surprisingly remained standing as the handler said. She smiled brightly down at the handler as she thanked him, and he pulled the horse along by the reins as he instructed her how to ride.

"Ya kick him left if you wanna go left, and you kick him right when you wanna go right. If you want him to stop of slow, tug on the reins. To make him go, kick him with both legs."

Walda made sure to note all of this down as she was guided to the front of the assembly, where wandering eyes of the Bolton men all landed upon her as they whispered amongst each other.

She saw Roose at the head with his back to her as a small blush crept up to her cheeks, and when she finally caught his eyes, Roose quickly glanced away from his young blushing bride, his feelings still tangled together in a mess as he did not know how to go about at sorting them out and find just what exactly what he felt for her.

She was soon by his side as he regarded her with a simple glance, and brief words. "I hope your morning was pleasant..?"

Walda tried to fight off another blush as she nodded. "Y-yes, my lord." She replied quietly as she squeezed at her reins. Roose saw her discomfort as his eyes glanced from her hands to her face, and without another word, he removed his cloak from his shoulders, and pulled them over Walda with care.

"This will keep you warm until we reach the Dreadfort. There, I will have something tailored for you that is more fitting for the cold.."

"T-thank-you, my lord." She replied as she gave him a small smile. He said nothing more as he kicked his horse, and the assembly were on their way to the dreadfort.

The whole trip there, the two said nothing more, but Walda kept tracing at the sigil of house Bolton, running her finger over the 'X' of the symbol that was upon the clasp of the cape, over and over again as it laid upon her breast like a precious treasure, and she could not help but blush every time she thought of what this meant. She was lady Bolton.. This is her sigil now, her house, her colors, her husband..


	5. Chapter 5

Westeros was no doubt a large and vast continent, divided into many sections between the North, the South, and the Riverlands, into the seven kingdoms. Among these great houses, you would not find House Bolton mentioned anywhere, for being the second most powerful house meant nothing if you still had another house above you. Somewhere in the North, isolated, and dark, stood the grim castle like structure, known by all as the Dreadfort, the household of the Bolton name. At first glance, you would see an almost haunting sight of this structure, and getting a closer look did not ease the nerves as you will be close enough to spot their banners, their sigil, that of a flayed man upon a field of black that only skimmed the surface of what this house was capable of doing. Their lord took the up-most pride in displaying his family sigil, and no matter who you are, you cannot mistake this sigil anywhere. This was Dreadfort, household of Roose Bolton, a ruthless man.

… And Walda.

Agony. That was all she could think of when Walda first laid her eyes upon Dreadfort. She was in both awed and terrified at the sinister sight of her new home that she was starting to miss her home at the Twins, no matter how small and cramp her room was, sharing with a dozen other girls, or how passive and vulgar her grandfather had been, never even batting an eye towards her after she was brought to her ancestral home years before. It stilled seemed more comfortable than the Dreadfort. A cold wind literally sliced through the advancing party of Bolton Bannerman as horses and men marched on through the mud towards the foreboding Keep with only the shirts on their backs, and their furred cloaks to help protect them from the bitter chill. Even though she had her own cloak, Walda couldn't refrain from shivering. Winter was coming, and the North will welcome it with open arms.

It had been three days since their departure from the Twins, and through that time, Walda saw little of her Lord husband. By his orders, she was placed between a few of his men to help shield away the cold while he remained at the head of the party. She wondered how he fared without his cloak. It had been nothing but harsh weather during the entire trip, and even though she had a cloak, she was still freezing cold. She could not even fathom what he was going through, bracing the bitter cold with nothing but a tough leather Jerkin, and chainmail. She saw even less of him during the nights they camped. They were to share a tent, but he seemed to never leave his strategy tent to lay with her and rest for the night, not that she complained, but she couldn't help but be a bit concerned that he was over exhausting himself with work. Was it strange that she would think such things towards a cold man such as Roose Bolton? A man she hardly knew except from the stories her kin often jested about that would send her younger cousins quivering in fear?

Whether or not, it was up to the gods to decide if it be so, but then again, she was his lady wife. It should only be natural that she be concerned for his health.. Right..?

"Open the gates!" Came a booming voice that ripped Walda away from her musings as she found herself, along with the Bolton men, flooding through the gates of the Dreadfort. All around her, the commotion of war preparation was ensuing as servants herded chickens, goats, cows, hauled timber, and carried buckets, while soldiers were patrolling, sparring, and harassing the small folk to move faster out of the way. All the noises around her almost made her forget to stop her own horse, but thankfully, one of the stable boys calmed the horse, and helped her down before taking her horse away to be watered and fed.

She was only left for a moment in her daze to take another sweep over her surrounding before being escorted inside by a maid. But before she was steered inside, she caught sight of Roose as he slipped off through the double wooden doors ahead of her. She found the sight of him somewhat comforting as she followed the maid inside with new found courage, where she had a bath drawn and ready..

A few halls down from her, another bath had been drawn for the Lord Bolton in a washroom connected to the main chamber reserved for the Lord of the Dreadfort. There, the pale figure of his lordship was carefully disrobing himself before a steaming copper tub that was adjacent to a small wooden table with many corked vials. The glass was a dark red tint as a strange shadow played upon the glass from the inside. When his lordship finally settled into the scolding water, he took a moment to situate himself there and clear his mind before he reached over for one of these mysterious Vials leisurely, and removed the cork. With a still hand, he slowly tipped the vial over for his other awaiting palm as three black leeches wrung out of the vial, and squirmed about, waiting to be fed. He did the same to the rest of the vials as he plucked the leeches, one at a time, and lined them first over his chest, then his arms, his shoulders, and reaching over to place them onto his back. It was only a matter of seconds as the little beasts began to draw blood, and in time, the once clear water was now a light tint of red.

Roose held no shame in his obsession. It did more for him then just drain out the bad blood. Being covered in these little beasts as they feasted upon him helped to clear and ease his mind, and he had been desperate these last three days to get back home for a leeching. He needed to forget the one thing that had been on his mind since the morning they departed from the Twins. He refused to come to bed to her, fearing that the passion he had for her upon their wedding night could be more than just a momentary weakness. For three, long mad days, he kept his distance away from her. He forced his men to hide her away from his sight, and did not even welcome her properly to her new home for the sheer sake of saving himself from becoming wanting of her again. There was a war in his hands that could determine the fate of himself and his household, and the last thing he needed was another distraction. He wanted to return to her, to his fat little bride, and ravish her again and again, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was needed elsewhere, and so, his wants will have to wait until, at least, he has taken Harrenhal for the Young wolf..

For half an hour, Roose was left to his peace before he heard the faint bustle of footsteps within his chambers next door. It had strike him queer as he seldom was present if there were maids cleaning his chamber as they most likely feared him too much to dare be within the same room as him, especially when said room involved a bed, so naturally, the Lord of Dreadfort went into a defensive mode as he pulled himself from the tub, grabbed a dagger from the pile of clothes he had left on the floor, and stalked over to the door where he pressed his ear against the cool wood to listen in, determining the presence of three persons by footsteps and faint voice murmurs. He stood there for a full minute as he listened on, strangely, unable to tell whether the voices were masculine or feminine due to the thick wooden door muffling everything that was being said, and with a steady hand, he had inched ever so slowly towards the knob, bracing himself to slit the closest throat he could grab hold of as he swung the door open with a creek, but only to freeze there in the doorway, completely exposed with leeches clinging to his bloodied skin before two hand maids.

…And Walda.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Got a little time to type this, so here you are! **

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Walda sat upon the bed, stunned as she stared up at her Lord husband who seemed to explode from the washroom out of nowhere as an awkward silence was settled within the room from the dramatic entrance he had made. She had just been brought up from her bath not long ago as the maids were informing her that they had not prepared a room in time for her, and instead, decided it would be no harm in changing her in Lord Bolton's room as he was probably finished with his bath and likely already at his meeting that afternoon.

Clearly they were wrong about her lord Husband as he was caught off-guard by their presence, and the sight of the blade in his hand was nothing compared to the horror that was squirming all over his body, sucking the blood from his pale flesh and allowing the crimson fluid to drip in long streaks across his skin, like ribbons.

The maids were quivering at the sight of their lord. They were sure they will have some sort of punishment for intruding upon their Lord's privacy, but Walda was quivering for a different reason. She was cold as she was seated upon the bed, the water that hung upon her skin was quickly chilling her as she tried to cover herself a bit with the dress that was laid out for her upon the mattress, one that the maids were about to help her into when Roose practically burst in out of nowhere.

"L-Lord Bolton, w-we were just helping Lady Walda into her dress." Stuttered one of the maids, a few years older then Walda with dark brown hair and olive skin.

"Then why did you not take her to her room?" Responded Roose in a steady, low and menacing voice as he stared the maid down, paying to mind to how exposed he was.

"Her room wasn't ready, M'lord!" Cut in the other, whom had similar traits as the other as she pulled the other maid, her sister, back. "But we can quickly change her, and take her to lunch, M'lord." She piped as she was conflicted between staring at her feet and up at her lord.

Roose was silent for another moment as he stared hard at the two maids, sparing a brief glance at Walda as she watched everything that was happening from the bed before he finally replied in a displeased tone.

"Leave me with my wife." He spoke sternly as he watched the two quickly look back at their Lady before pushing one another out the door, and after the door locked with a click, he turned his head back to Walda, whom was trying to find her courage and say something to break the uncomfortable silence that was between the two of them.

"I.. uh.. I need to change.." She said quietly, barely a whisper as her eyes never left the sight of the wringing leeches that were growing fatter by the seconds as they continued to drain her Lord Husband of his life blood. A few had finished their fill as they plopped to the ground, wringing on the floor, but again, Roose paid no mind to this as his hard gaze was now on his wife, a frown once again on his lips, his face twisted in a more dramatic version of that expressionless look he gave everybody in daylight as the darkness of the room shadowed every curvature of that expression.

"Then change." He replied evenly, his posture still stiff and still as when he froze at the same spot, watching with those cold, pale eyes as she slowly and meekly got to her feet, and turned her back to him as she lowered her dress from her bosom, and stepped in to it, pulling it over herself as quickly as she could without toppling over on herself.

She fumbled with a ribbon in her chubby fingers as she tried to tighten the dress around her waist, but as she did, cool hands reached around her and took hold of her own. It pulled her arms away from her ribbon. It wasn't forceful, more like guiding her hands away as Roose pulled the ribbon around her tummy, and back behind her as he gently tied it in a simple knot, rather then a bow like it was meant to. Walda didn't dare turn around as she still felt him behind her, his presence lingering there for a moment before he slowly rested his hands upon her shoulder, exhaling lightly before he spoke a bit softer to her.

"..I will join you for dinner tonight before I escort you up to your room myself. I want you to feel welcomed here."

When she gave no reply, he continued.

"This is your home now.. If you need me, or anything, just call on the servants." He finished as he lifted his hands from her shoulders, and quietly made his way back to the washroom, but paused again when he realized she hadn't moved, and glanced over to her over his shoulder.

"..You may go now, M'lady."

And with that, Walda bowed her head, and made her way quietly over to the door, her cheeks blazing red as she tried not to look up at him as her hand maidens greeted her quickly with quick and hurried voices.

"Oh my Gods! I'm so sorry M'lady!"

"Did he do anything to you!?"

The two half shouted and whispered as they dragged her down the hall towards the dinning room for her Afternoon meal.

"N-o, he helped me tie my dress.." She replied as the two stopped dead in their tracts and stared Owlishly at her.

"He what?"

One asked as the other turned her around and scrutinized the Knot that was supposed to be a bow.

"Lord Bolton did that?" The other asked, astonished that he didn't try to cut her up, or leech her, or worse..

"Y-yes." Responded Walda.

The two looked at one another before they looked at her, then quickly changed the subject as they ushered her over to the dinning room, but as the two bickered on about some squire boy, Walda couldn't help but smile a little to herself as a fluttery feeling settled itself in her tummy for the evening with her Lord Husband..


	7. Chapter 7

For the first time in a long time, the Dreadfort was finally coming to life once again for the preparations of its new Lady, and with the anticipating prospect of a full out war between all the seven Kingdoms that could mean absolute ruin from their Lordship down to the shit turners, there was no dispute that this welcoming was possibly the most lively one ever held at the Dreadfort. In the mist of war preparation, a hand full of servants had managed to make a half-decent job of decorating the small dining room with the household colors. The tall, dark windows had fresh blood-red curtains in place of the old dusty ones that was rarely ever paid any mind to as a black table cloth with red embroidery of intertwining vines that seem to drip with blood bordered the heavy fine material as a small arrangement of breads, meats, fruits and cheeses awaited the new honored guess to her first meal in her new holding.

Walda was astonished at such luxury. Never in her days has she ever had a welcoming so lavished, not even when she came to the Twins, or even for a name day! She saw servants rushing past her to set up the silverware as maids performed the duty of cup bearer, standing silently to the sides as their new lady entered with her handmaids, whom lowered their heads as they allowed her to pass but they stayed behind in the door way. Walda had passed reluctantly as she turned to them before she slowly made her way to a seat, which had been pulled out for her by one of the servants who had a too cheerful look upon his face as he smiled at her, but it wasn't a genuine smile, and it was anything but friendly as his eyes spoke hostility towards her before he turned around and returned to whatever post he had, not even having the decency to fake his smile long enough so that she wouldn't see his face dropping into an immediate frown before he turned away from her.

Still, Walda kept a bright face as she focused her attention on the decorations as her food was being served to her. The whole ordeal was rather strange to her as she was used to meal times being loud and obnoxious as she was surrounded by her kin who would drink and curse, laugh and sputter, even knocking over the tables on a few occasions if the ale was strong enough. Despite her Grandfather's wish for peace and quiet, mealtime was a loud and vocal occasion. This was the picture perfect scene of her Grandfather's vision of mealtime that Walda wondered maybe her grandfather was looking at marriage the wrong way. He should have married himself off to a strong Lord with a quiet keep instead of trying to rid his kin out of his lowly one. At least, it would have given their house the power he desired, AND the peace and quiet he longed for.

Walda giggled quietly to herself at the thought of her grandfather, who would probably go through with such an idea if he had thought of it, and would have most likely climbed into one of his own bride's wedding dresses and pass off as a Frey girl that fit the stories of the Seven Kingdoms. The thought made her shudder as she fiddled with her food quietly, already missing her old home, and wondering if she would ever get used to her new one, but with the silence came the thoughts of her Lord husband, and to her own embarrassment, one of the handmaids had asked if she was alright. She had been swooning, and did not realize she had been cutting at the tablecloth instead of her meal.

Walda blushed furiously as she laid her silverware down. "I'm fine!" She replied rather too hurriedly as she gently took her cup and gave it a small sip of the red wine.

As the maid slowly departed from her side with an irked look, It had occurred to Walda that even though the room was decorated in the reds and blacks of the Boltons, the servants were missing one other color in particular. Walda fiddled with her lunch again as she glanced up once and a while at the servants and cup bearers that were standing in wait until they found themselves useful. It was silent for a while, until Walda finally spoke shyly to one of the maids that came by to refill her cup.

"I-I like to thank those who ever decorated this room. Do you know who they might be?"

The maid, caught off guard, turned to her as she gave Walda a look that seemed to be a mix between distrust and fear. The girl didn't say anything for a while as she seemed to shift her weight from one leg to the other, glancing around the room, and then back at Walda.

"Are you going to tell Lord Bolton?" She started rather silently as the servants seem to grow a bit restless the longer the question hung in the air.

Walda gave her a confused look. "Why would I?" She started. "Unless he was the one who.."

"No! It wasn't his lordship! It was those five over there! I swear! They are the ones who have displeased you with decorating the-"

Walda blinked rapidly as the maid seemed to go wild before her, almost at the brink of tears as two guards came forth and took her, covering her mouth before they turned to Walda.

"M'lady, is she bothering you?" Asked one guard as the other continued to cover the girl's mouth.

"We can take her and the five that have displeased you away. Just say the word, M'lady, and we'll make sure they never-"

"No!" Bursted out Walda as she stood from her chair and made her way to the girl. The guards immediately released the girl as Walda pushed the girl behind her.

"She wasn't bothering me, I just wanted to know who decorated this room." Replied Walda in a panicked voice.

The guards looked from each other to their lady before they replied.

"You want to.. Thank them?" One said slowly.

"Yes." Replied Walda as the two looked at one another again, sharing a confused expression.

"A.. Genuine one?" The other asked.

Walda nodded her reply as the guards seemed to glance at one another one last time before they turned to the five the girl had pointed out.

"You lots!" Boomed one of the guards as he gestured to the five that were standing timidly against the wall. "C'mere, our lady would like to thank you!"

The five were unwilling to move, but with the glare the guard was giving them, the group slowly made their way passed the gaurds before Walda. The girl she had been protecting had run off somewhere, leaving Walda standing alone.

Walda looked the five over. The group consisted of three women around their twenties, and two young boys, no older then maybe 10 or 12 years old. The women looked to be chamber maids, and the two boys could probably be squires and stable boys.

Walda did not want to frighten them anymore then she did the other girl, and so, she started with a gentle tone, one she would use when speaking to her younger cousins. "Are you the ones who decorated this room?" She tried to sound as none threatening as possible. One boy nodded.

"When I came to this place, many of the rooms I have seen had been very dark and .. faded." She continued, earning the attention of the five.

"I am very honored that you five had put in the consideration of giving some color to this room." Smiled Walda as one of the boys smiled back.

"Wa'sno problem M'lady." Replied the shorter boy as he turned to one of the maids. "Cathlene only needed Rogaur and me to bring in the drapes and things."

Walda turned to the slightly taller boy as he seemed to stare at his feet. "I am guessing that you are Rogaur?"

The boy nodded, just like he did earlier as he bumped his shoulder to the other boy.

"Aye. This is me friend, Fin."

"Well, Rogaur, Fin. How would you like some sweet tarts as a reward?" She smiled at the two as they seemed to brighten a bit at the notion.

"Really?" They both said in a union as Walda gestured over to the table at a tray of tarts. "Help your selves." She grinned as she looked to the Chamber maids. She had found out that the one with dirty blonde hair was Cathlene. The red hair was Mervona, and the dark haired girl was Selyra.

"You really like that shade? I thought maybe it was too bright." Spoke Selyra as Walda was gently touching the drapes.

"No, it's perfect. I think we need more rooms with bright color as this." Replied Walda as Mervona was scrutinizing the fabric.

"We could get brighter colors if we had silk from the capital, or Dorne. It could make any color seem like its glowing." Voiced Cathlene as Mervona nodded in agreement.

"I love the silks we get from Kings landing. We had a whole shipment of that stuff just a few weeks back! I wish we were allowed to use them!"

Walda blinked as she turned to the girls.

"Why couldn't you use the silks?" Walda asked as the three turned to her as they looked back and forth with one another.

"Those silks were brought here by the order of Lord Bolton. We don't normally get silk from the South. Everything we need are made from the wool fabrics found locally here as it's cheaper." Answered Selyra.

Walda blinked again as her brows were drawn together.

"What would Roo-" She corrected herself as her cheeks turned a light pink. "Lord Bolton want with silk fabrics?"

The girls seemed a bit startled as they looked from one another again before replying. "I heard rumors that the silks were for you.." Replied Mervona.

"A seamstress told me he had the fabrics stored away until he knew the measurements for his bride.."

Walda seemed to stare at them un-movingly as she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"He.. He did all that for a Frey girl?"

The girls seemed to look at her in confusion. "You are his lady wife, are you not..?"

"Ofcourse I am. We married at the twins, w-we said our vows and we.." Walda stopped herself as her cheeks flaired up and the girls seemed to be even more confused.

"You were not .. scared..?" Asked Cathlene.

"..Why would I be?"

"Nothing M'lady." She replied as the other two cleared their throats, trying to cut Cathlene off.

Walda wasted little time in changing the subject as she turned their attention back to the room.

"I know you all did your best to decorate this room, and I do love it, but I think something is missing."

The three girls looked at one another as they turned to Walda in confusion.

"Ribons?" One replied.

"Yes, but that's not all." Smiled Walda.

"Laces?" Asked Mervona as her eyes lit up with delight.

"Of course! But what else?" Encouraged Walda as she moved towards the drapes.

"Your all people from House Bolton. What are our colors?" She grinned.

"Red and black." Responded Cathlene.

"Your forgetting one more color." Grinned Walda as the three gathered towards her with confused faces.

"What?" They asked in a union.

"Pink!"

. . .

Roose was seated in his small personal study as he was leaned over a pile of messages sent to him by Raven from Robb Stark. Apparently, he was not trusted by the young wolf, and the boy wanted a full report of his activities during the past few weeks since he had left with his small campaign to the Twins. It irked him how this foolish boy was seen as a king by the men of the North when it was clear as day that it was his mother who was pulling the strings while he was the show-pony that would look fitting on the throne, no different than that boy King, Jeoffrey and his spiteful mother, the Queen Regent.

After he had read over the Young Wolf's command, Roose discreetly stood from his seat, and moved over to a small fireplace just across from his desk, and threw the message into the fire. When he was satisfied that the message was no longer traceable, he promptly returned to his desk and pulled out a quill and paper, scrawling away sharply a message to Robb Stark of his new marriage, and his return to the Dreadfort in order to prepare the occupation of the Ruby Ford in order to slow down the Lannister's, and Meet with Edmure Tully for further strategic action.

For the pass few hours, Roose had been busy at work, preparing messages for Ravens that needed to be sent that concerned things like purchases of weapons and supplies to replenish his holdings for the upcoming plans of taking Harrenhal, and sending in resources for the Young Wolf's war effort to instill his "Loyalty". He had been working straight through the afternoon, stacking the messages neatly to one corner of his desk as he signed and waxed each one like clockwork, adding it to the pile, and returning to scrawling down even more until whatever light there was that had been present that afternoon, soon faded away into the evening as a stable boy was sent up by the cook to tell him it was supper time.

Roose, with no expression of relief nor irritation, stood from his desk as he dismissed the boy off and gathered his messages for the Maester to send. As he made his way down to the Raven's keep, he had passed the dining hall, and as he went by, a patch of color had caught his attention that was enough to make him stop and turn to take a better look. As he peered in, it took him a moment to register that this room was in fact his dinning room before his jaw literally dropped to the ground in utter disgust, intrigue, and a bit of horror. The room were his dining room used to be was now replaced with pink ribbons, pink laces, pink feathers and pink drapes. Even the portraits were decorated with little pink hearts on their iron frames, and the set of iron fire pokers that stood harmlessly near the fireplace was not even spared as little pink bows were tied around their necks. His dining room was a frilly pink monstrosity!

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**Sorry about the late post. Just haven't had much time to write since I'm swamped with exams and work = .=**


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure you want to use this much pink, M'lady? I don't think Lord Bolton would be very fond of this color, or at least so much of it in one room.." Came an unfamiliar voice as Roose slowly turned his head to the opposite entrance of the Dinning Room.

"Cathlene is right, M'lady. There is so much pink we can't even see the other house colors!" Came yet another unfamiliar voice as Roose Scrutinized the horror before him once more, and found a few red and black hearts here and there as well…

"I'm sure he won't mind! After all, it is our house colors. What could possibly go wrong with a bit of color!"

Roose's posture instantly stiffened as he finally recognized the voice of his new bride. He didn't have enough time to turn around and pretend he never found such an unholy place as the doors across the dinning room were swung opened, and the room went silent. Walda was staring wide-eyed at him as a small gasp had left her lips. The handmaidens that were with her had turned paler then the snow outside as they visibly trembled at the sight of their lord.

Roose did nothing but stare for a while, his face as blank as the day he was born, and eyes revealing nothing as he simply stared at the four for a while before he cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"I.. need to send some ravens." He said slowly as his gaze was focused upon his little wife.

"We will discuss this later."

He said no more as he turned around, but had stopped as he heard the gentle shuffling of a dress as Walda managed to find her voice.

"My lord, wait!"

It was a bit louder then what was necessary as Roose visibly flinched, but turned around just in time as Walda caught him off guard by wrapping her arms around the one he had that did not contain the letters. He looked down at her as surprise managed to capture his face for a split moment, before it quickly returned to the blank template that he was more familiar with as he gave her acknowledgement.

"Will you.. Still be coming to dinner?" She asked slowly as she stared up at him with those Aquamarine eyes.. He never noticed how lightly colored they were..

He swallowed dryly as he took notice of how hopeful her face was. It was making him uncomfortable as he was never placed in such a situation as this, and didn't quite know how to react to those pleading eyes. With a bit of reluctance, he stuffed the letters into his jerkin, and placed a cool hand over her warm one.

"I gave you my word that I would join you for dinner." He spoke lowly so that only she could hear, and that his words will only fall onto her ears and not the handmaiden's.

Walda seemed content with his words but she still seemed befuddled as her grip on his arm slowly loosened, giving Roose the ability to gently place his hands upon her shoulders and hold her at arm's reach as no more words were exchanged between their silence. Walda simply stared at the black Jerkin of his chest, and Roose seemed to become conflicted between something as he stared at the top of her head wearily. His eyes only flicked from her to the handmaidens that were present once or twice before without warning, Roose placed a quick, chaste kiss on Walda's forehead, staying long enough for her to raise her head to him before he slowly released her, and went on about his way, not daring to turn back as he left Walda overwhelmed with thoughts.

The three handmaidens were still skeptical of what they had just witnessed. Did their Lord really just kiss his wife..? In Public..?

The three rushed wildly to Walda as they started spilling out questions all at once, but Walda was too embarrassed to utter a word as she tried to fight down the blush that was threatening to burn her cheeks.

. . .

It did not take long for the bazaar news to be known by all of the household members. Silent mutters were passed between servants behind their Lord's back of the small affection their lord had shown. It was almost a sin to even dare to think of such things as affection from Lord Bolton, but it was gossip the handmaidens loved, and the kind of news small folks enjoy. It certainly did not take long for the news to be blown out of proportion.

"Our Lord is getting Soft I'd say. Rather run rapid with some fat new bride that could make goo-goo eyes at him without shame!" Muttered a rather aged guard as he was sitting near the entrance of the Dreadfort with his fellow guardsmen.

Some where drinking wine, while others were tearing into a chicken that they had been spit-roasting. All replied to the bellowing guard with indecipherable murmurs in vague agreement, caring more in their meal then the bloody gossip.

"I'll bet all you low-born dogs that she wouldn't last a month until someone finally slits her throat. Set our lord straight on his priorities then a stupid Frey girl. It won't be long until Ramsey Returns.. Just a few weeks' time and the little cunt will be dead in her grave."

"Will you shut ya bloody mouth, Carter? Its like your asking to be skinned alive. Since when did you become such a noble ass-kisser to Ramsey Snow?"

"The bastard is one sick fuck.. Did you see what he did to that little Orphan girl? Gutted her like a fish and gave her maiden head to one of his fucking dogs."

"That girl was no Orphan. That was one of the Cook's daughters. Her poor mother didn't even have a corpse to burry. She was fed to the other dogs afterwards."

Carter sneered as he turned his attention to opening his wine skin.

"Well, the little bitch should'a stayed in her room like she wus s'posed to do instead of running around like an orphan.."

"Your a piece of shit, Carter." Muttered one guard as he took a long drink of his wine, only to sputter most of it out as a tall figure slowly approached them from the Raven's keep.

Lord Bolton had just finished delivering his messages to the Maester, and had over-heard the gaurds when he was making his way back to the keep. He had taken a side entrance to get to the raven's keep, and looped around towards the main entrance as it was closer to his room, but when his name was mentioned, he had taken his time in waiting a while as he listened on into the conversations. It was only at that moment that he decided to reveal himself, his hands folded behind his back, his posture straight and hauntingly intimidating as he slowly came forward and approached the men who were in charge of guarding the main entrance.

"I would think that my men would be more alert and concern with their surroundings when they are tasked to protect the main doors of my holdings.. And yet, I catch my men off guard, spewing gossip like a wet nurse. What use do I have for gossiping grown men? Better to put you all down and feed the starving dogs."

The guards couldn't reply as Lord Bolton continued with a bemused expression.

"Maybe I should just entrust your jobs to the dogs all together. A starving man only becomes crazed and looses his wits. A starving dog only becomes more alert. A fed man looks to take advantage and easily turns cloak. A fed dog remains loyal and protective to his master.. "

Finally, one of the less smarter gaurds spoke up as he approached their lord.

"Uh, my lord, it is not what it looks like. We would never turn cloak on you. We were only talking about your son and how great a lord he would become in your stead-"

"Any man who thinks I take pride in my son's abnormal obsession with pain and pleasure rather then what it really means to be a lord will only disgrace this House further, and will be cut down just as swiftly as the GreyJoys with their little rebellion." Voiced the Lord of Dreadfort as his cold gaze was upon the speaking guard.

None of them dared to reply as he continued to stare with that disapproving cold glare, too fearful that a simple slip of the tongue could very well mean certain death for all of them. Roose only continued to stand there for another moment, before he slowly made his way to the door, which was quickly pulled open by the lots, and swiftly shut behind him. Roose made his way down the torch lit hall to were the dinning room was, bracing himself for the monstrosity it has been converted to as he found Walda, seated at the table with her back to him, being less livelier then she usually was as he noticed she was simply poking around her plate, showing no interest in her food.

"Is something not to your liking..?" Voiced Roose as he came around her, startling the poor girl as she instantly perked up and turned to face him.

Her face was a bit shocked as she couldn't reply for a moment until she found her voice again. "Y-you actually came to dinner?" She spoke, rather astonished that he would remember.

Roose simply took his place at the table across from her, giving her a mixed expression of insult, and a bit of curiosity. "I gave you my word. Do you not trust your lord husband?" He asked with a raised brow as a few servants began to serve him dinner, placing a small portion of everything onto his plate.

Walda could only blush as he mentioned so boldly that he was her lord husband, as if he didn't think any less of her as his lady wife, even if she looked the way she did, or even how poorly she was at playing the part of lady of the house.

"N-no, its nothing like that. I just thought that.. Well, since you never came to dinner before when we were making our way here, I had assumed you were too busy and had forgotten.."

Roose paused momentarily the fork he had been raising as his eyes were locked onto his plump wife. For an instant, he felt a small pang of guilt, as he had been tryng to avoid her purposely when ever they camped on the way here to his home. It was as if in that moment, he finally realized how cowardly he had been about this whole situation, avoiding what he might be feeling for his wife when it shouldn't have even mattered. She was his wife by law, and he had sworn to kill any man who dared lay a finger on her. She was his, and he wanted her, so why was he avoiding her?

Roose lowered his fork as he cleared his throat, not really knowing how to put the few words he was about to say.

"I.. I was busy, so I had dinner brought up to the tent I was working in.. It was very crucial that I had everything ready before we arrived so I could continue with plans Robb Stark had entrusted me with.."

The words he was searching for didn't seem to get through to her as she only became more deterred as she looked down at her food again, poking at it the same way she did when he came in. "Oh.." She muttered quietly as she watched her cup being refilled with more wine before she gently took a pitcher of water, and diluted it a bit to her liking.

"I'm sorry." Came Roose's flat tone, which caused Walda to jolt in surprise as she dropped the pitcher of water, and spilled the cup of wine onto her lap.

"O-oh I'm so sorry!" She apologized franticly, embarrassed that she was probably making a fool of herself at the first dinner she was having with Lord Bolton. A few servants immediately rushed to help clean the mess as she stood up from her chair, blushing wildly as she couldn't bare to make eye contact with Lord Bolton. She wanted to so badly to bolt out of there, and lock herself in her room and never be seen again.

Lord Bolton only stared blankly at the servants while they squabbled everywhere to clean up the mess, before he finally pushed his chair back, and stood, walking over to Walda very discreetly, and slowly offered her his arm. "Come, I shall take you to your room." He said solemnly.

Walda looked up at him with a bit of disappointment in her eyes. "But.. You didn't even get the chance to eat.." She replied meekly, fearing she had pretty much ruined dinner for him.

"I'm not hungry." He replied simply as he slowly took her arm in his before they made their way to her room in silence.

All the while, Walda couldn't shake off the feeling that he just simply didn't want her around when he finished having dinner, and so she kept her gaze on the ground, feeling ashamed before he stopped a few feet away from her door, were she allowed herself to release her hold on his arm, and slowly made her way to the door, giving him a small "Thank-you" When she released him.

She never made it to the door when he caught her by the wrist, causing her to turn to him as he pulled her back to him, wrapping the other arm around her waist as she found herself pressed against his chest, and trapped underneath his silver gaze. He seemed to be contemplating something as he just simply stared down at her for what seemed like years, but then, slowly, he lowered his head down to her, touching his lips to hers. At first, it was just a simple, gentle kiss. He pulled back slowly, but then, he kissed her again, and this time, savoring the feeling of her lips against his as he deepened it, working his way against her as she slowly copied his movements. Things only seemed to escalate as Walda gave off a small whimper, which caused Roose to grip her more fiercer against him as he slowly pushed her to her door, fumbling for the handle as they entered her now tidied room, still lip-locked as he kicked the door shut behind him, and guided her over to the bed, where he pushed her onto her back, and held her arms above her. He had begun kissing other parts her as his lips left a trail down her neck, to her chest. He released one of her wrists as it found its way caressing his hair as he slowly tugged at her dress around the helm to expose her breasts. He continued to kiss them slowly before he took one of her gentle breasts to his mouth, earning him a delicious moan as he felt his pulse quicken, but the pulsation wasn't only in his chest, and he made sure that she knew it..

A few maids later found Walda asleep against Lord Bolton's chest as he had his face buried into her golden locks, and although his mouth was hidden, by his expression, the maids could have sworn he was smiling in his sleep..

* * *

**I was late to work, so they said I didn't need to bother to come in as my shift already ended, so, NEW CHAPTER! . o. I'm so so SO sorry for not updating. I just suck at updating! :C I love to write, but then again, I'm a lazy potato! u_u**


	9. Chapter 9

"That miserable welp." Muttered Roose as he threw yet another letter from Robb Stark that only just arrived this morning, into the fire up in his study. It had only been two days since they arrived at the Dreadfort in order to gather needed suplies, and the boy has already gave orders for him to change plans and attack the Lanister troops before heading to the Ruby Ford. He was already Depleated of his men when they were defeated at the Battle on the green fork, and what ever remained of the northern troops that were split off at the twins from the young wolf, made it clear that they did not trust him. The young wolf needed yet another distraction by him so that he and his army could move without distraction as they continued on with their campaign against the Iron Throne, rallying the riverlands with the Northerners. Roose stared out of the small window of his study down towards were his men were still preparing their next journey towards occupying the Ruby Ford. His face expressed a slight trace of annoyance as his brows were furrowed together in deep thought. He was not yet prepared for this next encounter with the Lanister troops. His men would be completly obliterated before they could even make a dent against the Lions, and what good would it do for him if he continued to an earily grave? He had been following that boy all over the country, and not once did the lad ever take his advice into account, striking it down at every turn. The boy was a bloody fool. The thought brought him back to the times he caught the wolf staring at that woman who had been following the silent sisters. He knew that look, and he began to question if the King of the North would be stupid enough to triffle with a man like Walder Frey, and reject the marriage proposal his mother had planned for him? The late Frey was many things, and turn cloak was easily one of them, but the old man knew what he was doing, though vile he may be..

. . .

The whole keep was quiet as usual, but laughter could be heard from the kitchen as Walda hurriedly shuffled to an oven, mitts covering her hands, and pulled out a tray that held half a dozen loafs of hot buns as the staff around her were busily mixing and rolling dough into more loafs for when Lord Bolton would set off and travel to the Ruby Ford. It had only been her second day, and the staff was already becoming more comfortable around their new Lady. The fact that she insisted that she would help in the kitchen caused half of the people there shock as she tied an apron around her waist, and helped out with rolling the dough. She quickly became accepted into the hoard as her expertise were welcomed into the kitchen when she showed them that by increasing the amount of water, and cooking the buns at a lower temperature for a longer period of time, the buns would become quite softer, and not become so hard for the travel. Also, if they were to individually wrap each bun in its own clothe, it would keep the buns moist instead of bagging many buns together. She even introduced a type of bun that was served at her home that would be covered in a mixture of sugar, honey, and some water, creating a glaze that would harden over the buns and keep them moist. She was given praise for her ingenuity in the kitchen when she demonstrated how fruits could be preserved in jars of honey, and berries could be dried out near a fire to avoid spoiling and molding. In just a few hours, Walda had transformed the quiet Kitchen into a hectic work area as food was constantly being checked upon and packed away for the trip. Meat was being dried in thin strips, jams were being jarred, and wine was being rolled from the cellars in barrels onto carts and wagons. When Roose had wandered outside to check on preparations and how far they were coming along, he was shocked when he spotted his lady wife among the commoners, loading the carts with food. Some of the things that were loaded were unfamiliar to him, and could only guess it was her doing as she was practically running around, making sure all the food was prepared to perfection before it was loaded onto carts. Beside him was one of the carts of food that had been tied up in sacks. He was hesitant at first, but slowly, he untied one of the sacks, and picked up one of the bundles that had been individually wrapped in clothe. To his surprise, it was quite soft, rather then the hard crusted bread he was used to having when held. He slowly unfolded the clothe, and exposed a shiny bun, glazed in some sort of clear substance that had hardened over it. With some reluctance, he raised to his face, and sniffed it, and was further irked when it gave no scent. Slowly, he took a bite, and his eyes went wide as he just stood there, slowly chewing, and finally swallowing. The bun gave off a sweet aroma, one of cinnamon once he had bitten through it, and his mouth was filled with a soft sweetness with a hint of honey. He had taken a second bite before he stashed the bun into his pocket for later.

"My lord!" Came an excited voice as Roose turned to see Walda hurrying towards him with her skirts bunched up in her hands so that she may not fall.

"Walda." Came his reply when she neared, but she did not slow as she practically ran into him, wrapping her arms around him in a happy embrace as he had his arms drawn up in surprise, staring at her head with a bit of befuddlement in his gaze. Only when she raised her head up towards him with that soft smile of hers did he slowly lower his arms, tentatively wrapping them around hers as passersby stopped and stared at them for a moment, before hurrying on their way to avoid their lord's wraith. Roose cleared his throat akwardly when Walda had finally released them from their embrace.

"I assume your afternoon had been very productive?"

Walda nodded enthusiastically as she replied. "Oh, yes, I have so many things to show you!" She chirped as she took a hold of his hand, and started leading him towards the carts, pointing out what types of foods she had added for their trip. "I'm trying to introduce foods that wouldn't normally be brought along on a trip because they'd spoiled too quickly." She explained as she brought him over to a cart stuffed with more of the buns he had tried only a moment ago. "I wanted to make these buns softer to eat, but still have them last long enough for a trip, so I thought if we coated them with honey and sugar, it would allow the bun to retain its moisture." She explained as she held one up for him to try. Not wanting to upset her, he didn't refuse the offer as he took a bite, amazed at the flavor once again as he gave her a simple nod of approval.

"Its very sweet." He commented as she lead him further and into the kitchen were the food stuffs were being prepared, and sat him down as she offered him a bowl of dried mixed berries, seeds, and nuts, along with some biscuits and cheeses, accompanied with a flagon of wine.

Roose listened as she explained each process of preservation each food item went through as he nodded with an occasional "Hm." in acknowledgment, all the while, placing a sliver of cheese onto a biscuit, and taking a bite. Seeing the opportunity to introduce another food item, Walda quickly rushed to another table with excitement.

"Oh! you should try that with a bit of jam! Its absolutely delicious!" She chirped as she grabbed an open jar containing a deep red substance, and rushed it over to the table he was seated at, but during her excitement, she had stumbled a bit when her dress got caught with her footing, and the jar hit the table with a loud bang, sending its contents all over the table, and onto Lord Bolton's vest.

Walda let out a small gasp as her hands were drawn to her mouth in horror at what she had done.

"I.. I'm so sorry!" She apologized frantically as Roose stared blankly at his ruined vest with a deep frown marring his face. He observed the mess upon the table as well before he grabbed a clothe, and started wiping the mess off himself, but a bit of curiousity got the better of him as he smothered the biscuit he was still holding in one hand into the jam that heaped against the jar, and took a bite, chewing on it experimentally as Walda watched with bated breath, not knowing if he was pleased or dissatisfied. When Roose finally swallowed, he took a drink from his wine cup, and was quiet for a moment, before he finally looked up to Walda.

"We should have this for breakfast tomorrow." He suggested as an unsure smile found itself upon Walda's face. Walda nodded enthusiastically as she went to retrieve more clothe to help clean up the mess as Lord Bolton continued cleaning off his vest. Walda had saved what she could of the jam before wiping away the rest, and putting the food items away, leaving Roose with only his cup and the flagon of wine. Roose was taking another sip from his cup when Walda noticed he had gotten some jam onto his cheek, and without warning, when he lowered his cup, she leaned in, and dabbed a clean clothe to his face, her brows scrunched up as she focused on the task of cleaning him up before she leaned back with a small smile, but that faded slightly when she noticed that her lord husband had gone stiff as a ruler as he just continued to stare at her blankly.

"H-Have I displeased you?" She piped in quietly as he continued to stare at her.

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Oh.." She replied, feeling a bit relieved, but at the same time, confused as to why he was staring at her that way. "Well, did you want something else to eat? Perhaps some lemon cakes?" She suggested as Roose seemed to snap out of his daze, and stood from his seat.

"No, I think I should save my appetite for dinner, but do excuse me, I just remembered I needed to tend to something important this evening." He replied smoothly as he pushed in his seat, and walked hurriedly towards his chambers, leaving Walda alone to her thoughts before she was pulled back into the bustle of preparation.

As for Roose, he had found himself soaking in a tub of his own diluted blood, crawling with leaches once again as he leaned his head back, trying to relax as a soft murmur escaped his lips while he tried to push the things that were most preoccupying his mind back into the recessed corners of his mind. What was wrong with him? He was a grown ass man with little to no self control over himself when it came to her. Why couldn't he be as heartless as he was with his other wives? Why did he find her so enduring? He cursed the new as well as the old gods for these new found feelings as he sat up in his tub, peeling off the leaches forcefully before he stood from the water, and changed for dinner. He was in the middle of buttoning up his vest when he heard the door being gently opened, and then closed again. Glancing into the mirror, he could see that it was Walda. She was covered in flour, and her hair was in a worse mess then when he had left her. He paid little mind to her when she greeted him, and began taking out a clean dress before slipping into the now clean washroom. In a few moments, she had reentered the bedroom, wearing a pale pink dress, her skin free of flour, and her hair tied neatly into a braided bun. Roose took note that she looked rather flattering in that color, but didn't comment upon it when she came up to him as he offered her his arm.

For some reason, Walda was reluctant at taking his arm, which was unlike her as she seemed to stare at something, before she finally reached out, but instead of taking his arm, she clasped her hands around his wrist, and pulled it gently towards her, causing Roose to furrow his brows in concern.

"Is something wrong?" He asked gently as he stared at the top of her blonde head as she turned his hand palm up.

"You missed one, dear." She replied as she plucked something from his wrist, and held it to him, revealing a fat leech.

Roose stared at it for a moment before his gaze shifted to her, and she could have sworn that she saw his pale face turn slightly warmer as he took the leech from her.

"Thank-you.." He replied softly as he turned, and placed the leech with the rest up near the fireplace within a flask.

Walda found her way to his side when he finished, taking his arm as they both made their way to dinner at a leisure pace..

. . .

Five more days had gone by, and Lord Bolton was ready to set off for the Ruby Ford in order to distract the Lannisters from the Northern Campaign. Roose was about to mount when he heard a voice he was getting familiar of hearing now as he turned to see Walda rushing towards him, draped in warm, northern furs.

"Walda?" He voiced with a slight hint of surprise as Walda stopped before him, slightly out of breath as he cheeks took a bright pink color.

"I want to come with you." She said quietly as she looked up towards him with a small smile on her lips. "I want to help anyway I can." She clarified as Roose seemed to loose his composure as the look of alarm was apparent upon his face, but instead of becoming furious, he gently draped one arm onto her shoulder, and brought her away from the men who were waiting as he spoke to her in a low tone.

"Walda, a battle field is no place for a Lady." He spoke softly, as to not upset her as he lead her to a quiet corner near the stables. "What if something happens to you? I won't be able to protect you if I am being distracted by a war." He tried to reason with her as he saw the smile fade from her rosy face.

"But.. what if you get hurt?" She said quietly as she looked up towards him, pure concern evident upon her face as she looked pleadingly into his silver eyes.

Roose swallowed nervously as he tried to comfort her to the best of his abilities.

"I Wont. You have nothing to fear of me, I will be fine. You should be more worried about your own well being. I trust my staff and men, but not the Northerners.. I don't want you wandering alone without familiar escorts, understood?"

Walda stared unhappily at his chest as she gave him a small nod.

"Yes, my Lord." She said quietly.

Roose was a bit dejected at the sight of his lady wife's grief. Slowly, and begrudgingly, he tilted her head towards him, and sighed slightly as he gave in.

"Fine. You may come along, but you will not be present at the war camps, I will leave you with your kin at the Twins, and retrieve you when we return home." He stated lowly as his face held a slight frown, but it was enough to make Walda smile again as she wrapped her arms around him, squealing in glee.

"Thank-you! Thank-you! Thank-you!" She chirped, excited to be able to come along, and even be reunited with her cousins once more.

Roose still had the frown upon his face, but it softened slightly as he stared down at her, and returned her embrace gently..


	10. Chapter 10

"What is your name..?"

". . ."

"I asked for your name. It's rude not to respond when you are given an order."

"Th-Theon."

A loud cry was ripped from the man by a figure with dark hair, as he slowly slid a knife along the man's foot, which was gushing blood from two missing toes, flaying the skin there.

"Your name is Reek. Say it." Smiled the dark haired figure as he glared up at Theon, waiting patiently for him to obey.

"Stop.. Stop!" Came the gargled response as the man kept cutting into the flesh of his foot, peeling the skin back slowly to expose tendons and muscle. They twitched in pain as the man glided the sharp blade against them teasingly, before taking off another toe and watching how the muscles snap and convulse greedily.

"Tell me your name." He replied enthusiastically as the smile broke into a maddening grin as he stared hungrily as his blade, contemplating were else he could cut him open to make him give the answer he wanted, but he was dashed away from his bloodlust as a loud knock came from his chamber door, and a guard entered with a raven.

"My lord, a raven from your father." Spoke the guard as the message was passed over to Ramsay, who opened it eagerly, his fun momentarily forgotten as he scanned the message, before his glee turned to one of distain. He turned to Theon, who went quiet from blood loss and lightheadedness.

"It seems that my father has married a Frey girl.. I have a mother now, Reek." He said absently as he stared up at Theon. "How do you suppose we should celebrate?"

Theon did not respond as he was struggling to keep consciousness, but somehow, he'd given Ramsay an idea as the look of glee soon returned to the dark haired boy as he received inspiration from his blade.

"I know, we could send your family the news! Maybe they will leave moat Cailin, and I will have it to present to my father as a wedding gift."

Theon was barely listening as Ramsay closed in upon him. One moment, his focus was hazed over, then the next, everything went black, the last thing he remembered, was his own screaming as the scent of blood became unbearable...

. . .

"Pass over the sausages, ya'fat bastard." Demanded Lord Frey as he glared at one of his sons, hoarding the tray of food. "You've grown fat enough, look to your wife and babe, as skinny as a broom, and you stuff your face like a pig while they starve. Get out." Snapped the old man as the tray was passed over to him, which he proceeded to stab viciously with a fork, and brought it over to his plate, were he tore it into smaller pieces before eating.

_Another son returns, as pathetic as the last._ Thought Walder as he glared over at the staving mother and child, who was feeding her babe a soup or sorts carefully as she cooed softly. His son had married into a lowly house, and in one year, ran it into ruins as he taxed the small folk excessively to the point that there was no means to farm, and the house fell into a state of famine. Food was scarce, and it seemed that all the food that was available was for his son while the rest of the house and people starved, including his wife and child. When the food completely vanished, his son made his trip back to the twins in a commoner's wagon, pulled by a sickly horse, so ill that its ribs poked from its hide as it nearly fucking died on his steps, pulling his fat bastard of a son back to the twins. He held more respect for the horse then the son that dared return like a coward.

Lord Frey helped himself to some sausage, fumbling it around in his mouth as he tried chewing it with his gums, making a wet squishing noise as he swallowed the hardy piece of meat down with some wine. At the exact same time, a raven was brought to him by one of the guards, who whispered quietly to Walder, and not a moment later, the wine was spat from his lips as Walder nearly choked at the news, his face distorted into outrage.

"_WHAT!?"_

_. . ._

"Walda! Slow down!" Snapped Lord Bolton as he followed a blur of pink.

"I can't!" She screamed back as the mad horse carried her off the trail into the trees. She ducked lowly, trying to avoid getting her head knocked off her shoulders by the low branches as the horse charged on, spooked by a wolf that came from no were from the bushes. It was put down swiftly, but the horse had already taken off with its lady in tow as Roose followed after them, getting close enough to grab onto her reins, but the horse did not register as it continued running, even when Roose pulled at it harshly to stop it.

Having no other options, Roose instead grabbed one of Walda's arms, and pulled her towards him with all of his might, stopping his own horse at the same time as Walda slipped from the saddle, and crashed into Lord Bolton, sending the both of them off his horse and onto the ground with a loud thud and a pained shout.

Walda let out a loud gasp as she immediately rolled off of lord Bolton, getting onto her knees as she looked for any injuries she might have caused him as she gently guided his head to her lap.

"Oh my goodness! Are you hurt?!" She squeaked as she tried to brush his hair away from his face frantically as the sound of hooves neared them, bringing the men that had followed Lord Bolton into the trees after his lady wife.

Roose was grunting in pain, his eyes squeezed shut as he clutched his left arm. Walda feared that if she tried to help, she might make things worse if she tried to look at it, so a Maester was brought to their side immediately as Roose slowly sat up, wincing as Walda gave him some space while the Maester Checked things over.

"Only a sprain, you will recover quickly, my lord." Spoke the balding Maester as he rolled Roose's sleeve back down.

The words had relieved Walda, but guilt still lingered within her as she watched Lord Bolton slowly get to his feet, slightly struggling before brushing the Maester aside as he touched the arm lightly, testing it out. This action caused him to wince again, but only slightly. Then, he turned to one of the guards to fetch his horse.

Walda hesitated in going near Lord Bolton, feeling like she would only upset him with her presence, but as she watched him saddle his horse, she realized that she no longer had a horse. She stood there for a moment, and when Roose turned his horse towards her, she looked shamefully down at the dirt as she followed the guardsmen by foot. This action displeased Lord Bolton as he brought his horse over to Walda.

"What are you doing?" He said steadily as he stared down at the patch of gold upon her head.

"I.. I don't have a horse anymore." She said quietly as she scuffed the dirt under her feet, still refusing to look at him.

Roose furrowed his brows at her, wondering why she didn't just take a horse from one of the guards, but realized she probably would not find the idea too appealing, so instead, he offered her his good hand.

Walda saw the gesture, but only raised her head high enough to stare at his hand.

Roose remained silent as he watched her contemplate, before he felt her soft, warm hand in his. Gently, he helped her saddle in front of him, and when she was secured, he acknowledged the horse to continue on their way.

For the next few hours, their ride had been a comfortable silence. Every now and again, Walda would turn her head to look at something interesting, and unbeknownst to Roose, he would also turn to find what ever had caught her eye. When they passed a great tower, Roose took this opportunity to break the silence when he saw how transfixed Walda was with the structure.

"You seem to be very bewitched by that tower."

Walda turned to him in surprise, seeming to forget that she was not alone as her cheeks turned a light pink.

"Y-yes, I was just admiring the flowers that were growing on the vines.."

Roose had turned to the tower at the mention of the flowers, and indeed, noted the pink flowers that were in full blossom, dotting the tower, and seeming to disappear into the windows as it intertwined with the moss and ivy.

Walda seemed a bit reluctant as she turned to look at the tower again, seeming to contemplate her question. "Is that the tower of Joy?"

This question caused Roose to look back at Walda as he studied the top of her head for a moment before he carefully replied in a steady tone.

"No, the tower of Joy was torn down after King Robert's Rebellion, and was turn into a grave for the men that had died while trying to enter the tower to Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna."

"Oh.." Came the quiet reply as Walda looked down at the saddle of the horse, seeming to retract back into her silence.

Roose said nothing for a moment as he continued to study the top of her head before once again, breaking the silence.

"That tower had once been a watchtower, but it was abandoned years ago, and its name had been lost along with its history."

His words seemed to have an effect on Walda as she turned back to the tower, but he noticed she had a look of sadness in her eyes.

"It Deserves a name.." She said quietly as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress. Roose only replied with a small 'hm' as they rode past the tower.

Later that night, Lord Bolton decided to set up camp near a small stream were some of the soldiers fished for their dinner. Walda, like her trip to the Dreadfort, was given her own tent to stay in while Lord Bolton was once again, in another tent, quill and ink scribbling away on future battle plans, treaties, and crucial Intel on the enemy, or at least that was what Walda assumed as she got ready for bed, already in her night gown and letting her hair down from the tight but messy bun she had some how managed to keep up during an entire day's worth of travel. She was in the process of detangling her hair with her brush before a mirror when Roose entered her tent. She glanced at him in the mirror before placing her brush down quickly and bowing her head to him in greeting.

"M-my lord?" Came her unsure voice as Roose stood at the entry of the tent for a moment before he entered her tent completely. Walda noticed that he was still in his travel clothes, and he seemed to be holding something by his hip, out of her view.

"Walda." Came his even-toned reply as he watched her eyes on him, seeming to become threatened at what ever he had in his hand out of view. He remained silent until Walda spoke again.

"Did... Did I do something wrong..?" She said quietly as he started noticing the fear in her eyes. She looked like a cornered animal to him.

He took a step closer towards her. "No.."

Walda took a step back when Roose took a step closer. She was intimidated for some odd reason by him right now, and she wanted to keep her distance, but by doing so, her actions caused Roose to pause for a moment as he stared at her with his brows furrowed, like what she was doing was unnatural and wrong.

"I... I.." Walda didn't know what to say under his seemingly cold gaze as he continued to stare at her. He stepped closer towards her until she was pressed to the wall of the tent, trapped.

Roose continued on with his silence as he stared at her, then seemed to stare at some part of her head that interested him. Slowly, his hand came forward, and Walda could see what he had been hiding out of view. It was one of the flowers that had been growing on the tower they had passed.

She watched him wearily as he carefully tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and placed the flower in her hair. He then pressed his palm to her cheek, so softly it tickled her, but he didn't smile, he just kept his plain expression as he stared at her face.

His staring caused her to blush wildly as she averted her gaze to his chest, but her gaze was brought back to Roose as he tilted her face up again, and after a reluctant moment, he slowly pressed his lips to her temple, keeping it there for a moment, before he finally looked down at her again.

"What were you afraid of..?" Came Roose's steady voice as he studied the roundness of Walda's face, secretly finding pleasure in how he could make her cheeks turn color.

Walda didn't know how to respond, shaking her head as she tried to find her words. "I.. I was just.. Shy my Lord.."

This didn't seem to convince Lord Bolton as he continued to stare at her, before he placed a cool hand upon her cheek, brushing his thumb softly over her skin.

"I know you are still fearful of me. I can tell by the look in your eyes. You thought I came to kill you, didn't you.."

Walda stared into her lord husband's pale eyes for a moment before she averted her gaze to stare at his chest again, a sad frown on her lips as she laced her fingers together, trying to appear small.

"I.. I am sorry.. I have displeased you... I know I was not fit to be a Lady of a house.. I am too naïve and foolish to be the Lady of House Bolton.. It would have been in your best interest to do away with me silently and find someone more fitting for this role.."

Roose didn't respond to her words, but instead, he took her hands in his, holding them securely as Walda returned her gaze to him, her own expression confused and curious.

"You are Walda Bolton. You are the Lady of House Bolton. You are my wife, and possibly one day, you will be the mother of my child. I have sworn an oath to be by your side until our dying day, and I have sworn to protect and honor you as my equal. These are oaths we have sworn before our gods, and we are now bounded until death. I will not allow any harm to come to my flesh and blood, let alone my wife. What kind of Lord would I be if I cannot protect my Lady..?"

Walda was speechless as she was awe trucked by his words, so instead, Roose brought her closer to him as his arms found their way around her waist while he rested his chin on top of her head lovingly, a slight smile on his lips as he held her for what seemed like years to Walda.

"I will not harm you, I promise you that.. I am far too fond of you.."

His words caused a flood of warmth in Walda, and slowly, but surely, her arms found their way around her lord husband, and soon after, their bodies found their way to Walda's bed..

* * *

**HEYYYYY! I'M STILL ALIVE. VERY LAZY BUT VERY MUCH ALIVE. SORRY ABOUT THE VERY LATE UPDATE, I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET OVER SOME SERIOUS WRITER'S BLOCK. AS ALWAYS, ENJOY. -STRANGE DEMISE. **


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